Life After: A Gale Hawthorne Fanfic
by Annie Flickerman
Summary: Gale Hawthorne and his life after the rebellion.
1. Chapter 1

Six months.

It's been six months since the incident. My hands are still drenched with the blood that I had a hand in spilling. The innocent, young blood.

I slam my fist down on the table, startling the people around me out of their conversations.

"I think it's time to get the meeting going," I say quietly, looking towards the President. She raises an eyebrow at me but says nothing in my direction, rising from her chair.

"Mr. Hawthorne is correct. We have important business to attend to," Paylor says quietly, though loud enough for everyone in the now-silent room to hear. My hand shakes against the table, my head lowering slightly. I've been dreading this day for a very long time but now that it's here, I want to just get it over with.

"Someone must pay for what happened that day in the Capitol. Hundreds of innocent lives were taken, including countless children. And the damage came from us, not the Capitol! We cannot let such things be left without justice."

"Alma Coin was responsible for those deaths, and you know it. And she has more than paid her dues." Haymitch looks as serious as I've ever seen him, his arms folded on top of the table. He looks sober, too, which is surprising.

"There is no proof that she initiated those attacks, Mr. Abernathy. There _is_ proof, however, that they were manufactured by two gentlemen sitting in this very room."

Every gaze turns towards me and Beetee, who is sitting beside me, quiet and with his eyes plastered to the table in front of him. I swallow hard, breathing out heavily. There's nothing to say to that. It's true.

"This case isn't one that needs any proof. You _know_ that they had nothing to do with the launch of those parachutes. You know it, Paylor. You're just too damn ready to prove that you can accomplish something!"

"Haymitch. One more comment like that and you will be asked to leave," the President responds coolly, not even looking at the older man who is sat across the table from her. Her eyes are glued on me. I can feel her gaze, as piercing and painful as daggers.

"I'm here to represent Katniss Everdeen, the mockingjay and the reason that we are able to sit here and have this conversation. You try and kick me out. You go ahead and try."

Silence settles on the room again. My heart is beating so loudly, though, that I'm sure it breaks that silence. I'm sure that everyone can hear it. Katniss sent Haymitch here, to defend me. Why? She owes me nothing. I'm the reason her sister is dead.

"The majority of the people gathered here want to see some form of justice," Paylor sighs, closing her eyes and tapping her fingertips against the table top. "What do you propose we do?"

Haymitch says nothing, his expression becoming puzzled. Paylor is trying to meet him halfway, but he doesn't have any kind of idea to offer.

I glance over at Beetee. The poor man is so scared that he's shaking, literally shaking, in his seat. I sigh heavily and stand up, clearing my throat.

"We'll work in the mines. In District 2. Restoring them, getting them functioning again. Not just us, of course. We'll need teams of workers. But we, ourselves, will work as well. Not only to repay what happened in the Capitol, but also for the harm we caused the people in that District."

Paylor's eyes are open once more and staring at me, one eyebrow lifted. She seems to be considering my proposition carefully, meeting my gaze and holding it. I do my best not to look away. It's not that she intimidates me, but I really don't like staring into a person's eyes for too long. It feels as though they're trying to look inside me, to strip away the outside layers and get into the deep parts of me that I try so very hard to hide.

"That seems like a reasonable idea. All in favor, raise your right hand."

I look around the room slowly. All the surviving victors are here: Johanna, Haymitch, Beetee, a creepy looking woman with sharp teeth, and Peeta – I try to avoid meeting his gaze. Everyone except for Catnip. No…Katniss. I can't call her that anymore. She isn't my friend. She isn't anyone to me. A stranger; an enemy, even.

But Haymitch is here because of her. And Peeta very well might be, as well. So she can't hate me, can she?

I sigh and hold my breath, watching as the hands go up. One by one. Everyone except for Haymitch.

"This is wrong. They owe _nothing_!" He yells out, standing and storming out of the room. The door slams behind him and for a moment, everyone is silent again. Finally, though, Paylor clears her throat.

"It's unanimous, then. Mr. Hawthorne and Mr. Wright will begin working in the mines of District 2 next month. This meeting has concluded."


	2. Chapter 2

"Gale, a word?"

I sigh, lifting my gaze a bit reluctantly to the middle-aged man that is leaning against the table in front of me. I haven't moved from my seat, even though the meeting has long been over. Neither has Beetee.

"Yeah, sure. Say as many words as you wanna say, Haymitch," I mumble, staring at him through half-lidded eyes.

"I meant in private," he says quietly, glancing at Beetee and then back to me. I chuckle quietly, shaking my head and sitting up, throwing an arm around Beetee's shoulders.

"Whatever you want to say, you can say around my good pal here, Beetee."

"Gale Hawthorne, get the hell over yourself." He pushes off from the table and grabs me by the front of my shirt, yanking me out of my chair. My eyes widen slightly and I shove his hand away roughly.

"Why do you care so much all of a sudden, huh!? Year after year, I watched you stumble around like a drunken fool and now, now you're a changed man? What happened?" I demand, taking a step away and clenching my hands into fists.

"Something good finally happened in my life. That's what happened," he says quietly, an intense look in his eyes as he stares at me. He has nothing to hide anymore, no pain to mask. He's found something worth living for, and something worth fighting for.

"Fine, fine." I whisper, moving past him and out the door. He follows after me, leaving Beetee alone in the large conference room.

The moment we're outside and the door is shut behind us, he comes around in front of me and clears his throat.

"Katniss sent me here, to try and get you out of punishment. You've probably already figured out that much," he says in a hushed tone. I nod my head slowly, flitting my gaze from the hall past him to his face. "That obviously didn't work. But we can still get you out of this."

I furrow my eyebrows, staring at him intensely. He's going to try and sneak around on Paylor's back.

"How?" I ask hesitantly, a frown on my lips.

"We fake your death." He pauses, gauging my reaction. I do my best to keep my face completely stoic, despite the shock I actually feel.

"Go on…"

"You're overcome by grief and guilt, and decide to take your own life," he says, folding his arms across his chest and tapping his fingertips against his upper arms.

"No. No way. Is that all you had to say to me? If so, get lost. I deserve what I'm getting. And it'll be good for Katniss to be away from me," I mumble, turning and grasping the door knob.

"That's not true. You're her best friend. She _needs_ you right now, Gale. She just lost her sister!"

I lower my head and fight back the tears that have drowned me every night since Prim's death. My hand tightens around the knob so much that my knuckles begin to turn white. My entire arm is shaking.

"To my bombs," I whisper, before throwing open the door and storming inside, slamming shut the door after me.

He doesn't follow.


End file.
